Love

Original Sold

I’ve decided not to make reproductions available for Love since there are prints still available for Paris Roses, my first painting of these roses.

Shop Online for Archival Prints of Paris Roses

The story of this painting is one of two stories that came together, resulting in a painting unlike any other I’ve ever done.

First, the reference image. I’ve never had any interest or energy for re-painting an image. Plenty of artists revisit the same exact subject many times – which can be instructive and interesting. Yet, for me, after I’ve finished a painting, regardless of whether I think I could have done a better job, I’m ready to move on to the next thing. We’ve already covered that territory, says my muse. 

Except for this image.

This photo was taken one afternoon in the rose allee in the Jardin de Plantes on a trip to Paris in 1998 with my friend Karen Nugent. I cropped the right side a bit and painted it on a full sheet in 2005, calling it Paris Roses. It continues to be a favorite of many who are familiar with my art.

A decade later, in a search for something to put behind the image of my silhouette and the Musee d’Orsay clock, I ended up back with this image, resulting in the painting I called Eternal.  Though I experimented with several other images behind the clock, none sang like this one – maybe because the two images were captured on the same trip to Paris with Karen. This painting is now the third – and I’m guessing the last – time I’ve portrayed these lovely roses and buds.

Now, the story of the sheet of paper.

In the late aughts I took an evening class at the College of Marin, from Chester Arnold. I had a yearning for a mentor and he had a great reputation as an artist and teacher. But the class required that I paint in oil or acrylic. I spent $300 on a complete set of what he said were the best, creamiest acrylic paints so I could see what was in store for me.

One evening I brought in an elephant sheet (41”x29”) of 555lb Arches watercolor paper. Chester enthusiastically suggested that I ought to paint it with gray gesso. Being a faithful disciple, I did just that. I painted it a dark, battleship gray. 

I didn’t end up sticking with the class. I was still working during the day at that point and I wasn’t getting enough time painting in watercolor. It felt like I was cheating on my true love, moonlighting with these sticky acrylics.

Now, what to do with this lovely piece of paper – all covered in gray???

There it sat, in the stack of stuff in my studio for months… years…? begging me to answer this question. 

My neighbor-friend Lynda Zahn gave me a container of white acrylic gesso as a start – at least the gray was gone. My attempt to paint watercolor on the gesso was hopeless; it just beaded up, the gesso resisting the watery paint.  So maybe I’d paint it with acrylics?

More time went by before I got the idea to coat it with the Daniel Smith Watercolor Ground I had around, bought just to play with. This was better – not the same as fresh paper, but it did at least take the paint. 

Here’s where the stories merge – a beloved image and an entirely new surface to paint on.

The proportion of this rectangle – made even more narrow because of an encounter with my dog’s teeth on one side – meant that I could bring into the painting the part I’d cropped off the right side. New territory of shapes to cover, including another bud tucked in on the far right.

I started painting it sometime in 2019, but didn’t stick to it. Layering the paint was a big challenge because the surface was hard and the paint didn’t soak in at all. I was missing my velvety cotton rag paper.  I really do have a love affair with my medium and its materials.

In the uncommitted space and time, just after finishing another painting, and just before the pandemic hit in 2020, it called to me again. It turns out that working on this particular painting at that time was perfectly aligned with making do with what was on hand, as the world as we knew it was shutting down.

I was far along enough with it – before we all went home for the remainder of the year – for me to share it with the artists in my groups. One Friday morning, as two of the regular artists, Pam and Glena, were just getting settled, I wondered aloud what to name it. My dear Pam said, with a matter-of-fact certainty that caught my ear “you should call it Love.”

I wouldn’t have come up with this name, but it works. Love lies right next to devotion in my heart. This painting is nothing if not devotion – to stubbornly refusing to throw away a sheet of paper that could be made useful, and to a lovely image of roses from my soul’s ground zero.

Love, yes, love.

26”x41” – February-March 2020 – Watercolor on gesso-coated paper